


The Salvation of Dean Winchester

by RosieTheRiveter



Series: Salvation [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Anal Sex, Dark Past, Demon Deals, Drunk Dean, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash, Oral Sex, Past Child Abuse, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 02:09:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieTheRiveter/pseuds/RosieTheRiveter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean had always known getting pulled from Hell was a mistake. Now he knew he was headed back.  Could Cas save him from himself once again? (Sad Dean, Comfort, Eventual Smut)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Salvation of Dean Winchester

**Author's Note:**

> * Takes place after The Purge - slightly altering the fact that Dean and Sam are together at the end of the episode.
> 
> \- Part I of a possible series.
> 
> -This is my very first fic on this site; my very first Supernatural fic; my very first full-on Smut fic & my very first Slash fic - because I just can't get Dean and Cas out of my head (How can anyone not see these two are into each other? ;) )
> 
> -Reviews are my candy.  
>    
> <3 ~RtR
> 
> *I do not own any of these characters, story is purely for entertainment purposes.

_“I can’t trust you. Not the way I thought I could – not the way I should be able to.”_

_“So what – we’re not family now?” Dean asked incredulously._

_“I’m saying you wanna work – let’s work - but if you want to be brothers….” Sam shook his head indicating that wasn’t on the table._

_Dean just nodded, his body numb. Of course. He deserved it – he knew he deserved it. Sam just finally verbalized what Dean knew already – that he was the lesser of the two; the Winchester brother that never lived up to the name. Would never. Could never._

_And if he kept running, kept dodging, kept wisecracking, maybe he’d never have to let it sink in. Sam could have been anything he wanted - but Dean dragged him back because he needed Sam – not the other way around. Dean was just a weight around Sam’s neck that dragged him down. And now Sam had shaken him off as easily as a dog shakes off water. He could see the way Sam’s face turned cold and detached when he said they weren’t brothers anymore. Sam had always wanted a way out and now he could take it without feeling guilty._

_Dean knew as he climbed back into the driver's seat that things would never be OK again._

 

~~~~~~~~~~

_“Crowley.” Cas growled, unhappy to hear the accented voice on the end of the line. What do you want?”_

_“Good to hear your voice too Cas.” The King of Hell drawled sarcastically. “Greetings, pleasantries, blah, blah, blah. Only you might want to check on your boy. He’s been swimming in the bottom of a bottle of cheap whiskey for days now and apparently trying to set a new record for how long a human can stay pissed.”_

_“Why do you care?” Cas asked, confused as to why Crowley would be calling him about Dean._

_“Oh – you haven’t spoken to the husband in a while then? The two of us are working on a new project together – very big. All the muckity-mucks are involved. And he’s my prize stallion in the race. Suffice to say, if he DIES before he finishes the JOB I’ll be pretty much screwed!! OK?”_

_“I thought he was with Sam.”_

_“Moose and Squirrel are on again, off again. They had some words, Sam took off for a solo hunt and your boy decided to go on a bender – while he’s supposed to be on the clock!”_

_Cas wondered how Crowley knew the inner workings of the Winchester relationship but he didn’t ask. “Where is he?”_

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Cas appeared suddenly with a shimmer of wings in the hotel room Crowley told him he would find Dean.  It was filthy.  The bed was a tangle of slept-in sheets and there were empty liquor and beer bottles strewn about on the table and nightstand.  He saw no evidence of food amongst the debris and wondered how long it had been since Dean had eaten.  Dean himself sat alone at the table in the dim light, a rumpled tee shirt and jeans that looked like he had been in them for days.  His face was haggard, eyes rimmed red and blood-shot; the stubble on his chin had been ignored.  Dean gripped a tumbler full of amber liquid and stared unseeingly at the table.  He took a long swig, emptying the glass and then grabbed the bottle to pour himself another.

“Hello Dean.”

“Cas.”  Dean slurred without turning around.  “I wondered how long it would be before you showed up.  How the Hell’d you find me anyway?”

“Crowley called me.  If I didn’t know better I would think he was worried about you.”

Dean smirked drunkenly. “That bastard is just worried I’ll fuck up his plan. “

Cas no longer reacted when Dean cursed.  It was how he was raised.  Though Cas knew when they first met, Dean had used vulgar language as much as possible to shock and embarrass him human profanity was of no consequence to an angel.

“I’m worried about you Dean.”

“How’s Sam?” Dean barked, changing the subject.

“Sam is fine. He’s on a hunt in the Carolinas.  A coven.”

“Witches.  I hate witches. They’re disgusting. You should be looking after him.”

“He’s fine for now Dean.  Your brother is a capable hunter.”

“That he is.  Sure is. The better hunter.”  He nodded sadly.  “So here you are, huh?  For what?  Alcoholics Anonymous meeting?  Waste of time Cas ‘cause I’m no quitter.”  Dean chuckled drunkenly.  “Have a drink with me Cas.” He added as he dragged another glass towards the bottle and sloshed some whiskey into each.

“I don’t want any Dean.”

He shoved the glass roughly at Cas’ chest. “Drink with me.” He growled.  Cas saw the pain in Dean’s eyes and took the liquor.  Dean raised his glass as if in toast and downed it in one gulp.  Cas followed suit – though the liquor would have no effect on him.

“Dean, when was the last time you ate?  Or slept?  Or showered?” 

“What the Hell difference does it make?  I deserve a little vacation don’t I?  I’ve been working hard.” He ran his hand sloppily over his face and into his unkempt hair.

Cass finally spotted the brand on Dean’s forearm and narrowed his eyes.  “Dean?  What the Hell is that?” He had picked up a penchant for using vulgarity from the Winchesters.

Dean laughed as he looked at the mark. “Oh this?  Funny you should use the word Hell.”  And he chuckled again and reached for the bottle.  Cas wrenched it out of his reach.

“It’s the mark of Cain!  What have you and Crowley been doing?”

“We’re looking for the First Blade to kill Abbadon.  We found Cain - ”

“ _Cain_? He’s still alive?”

“ - I made a deal.” He recapped simply and shrugged.

“Why would you do such a thing?”

“What possible difference could it make now?  I kill Abbadon, then Gadreel and Metatron, then Cain – because I swore to him I would - then my bastard partner Crowley.  Then I’m done.  Finito.  Then I can – “ He stopped himself and shrugged – a cynical grimace on his face.

“What Dean?  Then you can what?”

Dean shook his head and made a failed swipe at grabbing the bottle back from Cas who held it out of reach.

“You think I’m going to let you kill yourself?”

“It’s none of your _fucking_ business Cas!  Who do you think you are anyway?  My fucking father?”

“No.” Cas replied darkly. “I’m certainly no John Winchester.” He’d seen into Dean’s soul and memories and was reminded of the darkness there.  The flashes of alcohol induced violence at the hands of John; the rage; the bruises that would fade and the scars from words that would never heal.

Then Cas recalled with regret the beatings he himself had inflicted on the man before him and his heart skipped guiltily.  Was Dean comparing him to his father’s abusive ways?  Did he hate him for it? No. Dean didn’t even hold his father accountable for the abuse he’d inflicted. In fact, he still worshipped his father’s memory - much as Cas felt he didn’t deserve it. 

“I know I’ve hurt you Dean.  And I’m sorry – more sorry than you will ever know. I can’t make up for that.  But you have to know something.  I’m not going to let you hurt yourself.  As much as you can’t let Sam die – it’s not in me to let you go.  And I’ll destroy myself before I let that happen.”

Dean brushed angrily at his eyes.  “Go away Cas.  I’m not worth it.  Just let me go.  I destroy everything around me Cas.  Everyone around me dies - or worse.  Look at what I did to Sam.  Look at what I did to _you_! You’re powered on stolen grace!  That’s my doing too – from the _second_ you pulled me out of Hell I ruined you.”

Cas stepped closer to Dean – in the back of his mind, he heard Dean’s voice “ _personal space Cas – ever heard of it?_ ” But he didn’t care. “No Dean.  From the second I pulled you out of Hell I was saved. You _never_ thought you were worth saving and after everything you’ve done for this planet, you still don’t.  But I can see into your soul Dean.  I know everything – every _damned_ thing that has made you what you are. Everything terrible and everything wonderful.  And believe me - you are more good than bad.  You think you are tainted by everything that has happened.  But you are special and you are beautiful.”

Dean could feel the heat off of Cas’ body soaking into his cool skin and through his drunken haze of self-loathing it felt good and soothing and pure. But somewhere echoes of hateful words spat at him reminding him that men don’t feel that way about each other and if nothing else, Winchesters were men.

Strings of soul wounding, humiliating epithets and violent blows from a father he loved; a father he only wanted to please but consistently disappointed.  He pushed the memories away, not wanting to remember the disappointment in his father’s eyes.

“No.”  He shook his head sadly.  “You’re wrong.  I’m not anything good Cas. I’m toxic.  Like a nuclear bomb.  Just let me go.  You’re better off.  Just like Sam is better off.” His voice broke as he said the words and Cas knew he was barely holding on.

“Dean – “

“We’re not brothers anymore – me and Sam - did you know that?” He smiled sadly and shook his head.  “Sam doesn’t even want me for a brother.  That’s how bad I screw things up.” Dean’s eyes filled.  “That’s how much of a _loser_ I am Cas.  My own _brother_ disowned me.”

“I’m – I’m sure that’s not true Dean.” Castiel’s brow furrowed at this information.  It had to be the alcohol talking. But somehow the truth was there in Dean’s bloodshot eyes that cleared for a moment as they met his own.

“Oh – it’s true.  Everything I’ve ever done was to keep Sammy safe.  Because he’s my brother and I love him and my job is to keep him safe and alive – and he hates me for it.  And I can’t even blame him.”

He wiped his hands across his face. When he spoke again, his voice, usually so gruff and strong was catching with unshed sobs. “And now I’m going to Hell Cas.  I know that. I do. For Bobby, Jo, Ellen – for Kevin – for everything I’ve done and everything I’ve failed to do.  I know I deserve it but I’m - so scared.  The blood and screaming and pain and – have you ever smelled burning flesh Cas?  I can’t forget that smell.  Ever. I can’t wash it off me.  And - what if Alastair’s not really gone?  What if - “ he swallowed around the lump in his throat. “-what if I turn into -” He snatched the bottle from Cas’ hands and held it to his mouth – he was shaking so hard he could barely press it to his lips.

Cas’ heart broke – but at the same time he was infuriated by the words Dean was saying. “You’re not going to Hell Dean.” His voice a growl – barely above a whisper.

“I don’t think you have an inside source on those decisions anymore Cas.  I’m gonna turn into a Demon.  I’m gonna to be the thing that Sammy has to kill someday.  And there is _nothing_ you or I or _anyone_ can do about it.” Dean sank down on the unmade bed his legs no longer steady enough to hold him up.  Cas didn’t know if it was the liquor or the fear that made his legs weak.

“No – Dean. I won’t let that happen.“

“Just _go away Cas!”_ Dean shook his head sadly.  “Why are you here?  I told you – I have nothing left, OK? Nothing left – I can’t be anything to anyone. I’m just so tired.  I have a job to do and when it’s done – “

“Why do you want to punish yourself so much?”

“I got Kevin killed! Because I’m selfish – Sam is right!  I don’t want to be alone so I let Gadreel in – against Sam’s wishes.  It wasn’t right – I knew that. I _knew_ it.  And I tell myself I do these things because it’s for the right reasons.  That I do it for Sam.  To keep him safe.  But he’s right – it’s for me!  Because I can’t stand to be alone.  I can’t stand the thought of it.”

“So then why do you want me to leave? You think being alone _is_ your punishment?” Cas’ eyes narrowed and he tipped his head slightly – the way that always made Dean’s breath hitch inexplicably.

Dean’s rage dissipated and the pain in his heart swelled again.  He could hardly breathe it hurt so badly.  Without meaning to, he let out a choked sob. “Please Cas – I just – don’t be nice to me right now. OK?”  He let the bottle slide from his fingers to the floor in front of him and he rubbed his hands over his face angrily swiping at the tears. “I can take just about anything but you being nice.”

“I told you before, you did the wrong thing for the right reasons.  Sam is angry – he has the right to his anger but I don’t agree with him saying you aren’t brothers.  That’s cruel.”

“It’s the way he feels.”

Cas’ eyes narrowed again as if he was reading Dean’s mind.  “He doesn’t know the half of what you’ve done for him, does he?”

Dean looked into Cas’ eyes and with a cold, sick feeling realized what he was saying.  Cas knew everything about him.  That meant he knew _everything._ “And he never will Cas.  Those things are dead and buried.  What happened back then – he can’t ever know.”

“Dean – “ Cas started to plead with him.

Dean jumped back to his feet.  “No goddamn it!  He can _never_ know!” Dean grabbed Cas by the lapels and dragged him in threateningly for a second before his face crumpled. “Please Cas.  What I did back then – it’s just something I had to do.  It doesn’t mean anything.  I don’t think about it anymore.  I don’t want to think about it.  Ever.” He let his fists release Cas’ coat and turned away, grabbing the bottle from the floor and taking another long swig.  He coughed a little from the taste, which was no longer numbing the pain but rather was making him feel sick.

“And your father?  What about that?”

“That either.  Sam finally got to a place where he can be at peace with the memory of him.  He doesn’t need that stuff in his head too.  Let it rest.”

Dean ran his hands over his face again and wondered if there was anything that was secret from Cas.  He wasn’t sure if he wanted him to know everything.

“You need a shower and sleep.” Cas’ words broke into Dean’s thoughts.  “Come on.”  Cas took Dean under the shoulder and pulled him towards the bathroom, catching him as he stumbled.

In the bathroom Cas pulled on Dean’s dirty teeshirt, trying to undress him. ”You’re not putting me in the shower – I can do this myself Cas.”

“Dean – don’t be stupid. You’re falling down drunk – literally.  I’m not letting you kill yourself in the shower either.”

“I’m not gonna let you watch me shower Cas.”

“I’ve seen you naked a thousand times Dean. One more time isn’t going to make a difference.”

“What – what are you taking about?” Dean sputtered – mortified even as his hazy mind struggled to make sense of what he was saying.

“I watch over you Dean.  That means all the time – I’ve seen you shower.  I’ve seen you making love with women. I’ve seen you by yourself.”

The implication of what he was saying sunk in.

“You watch me having sex?  Wait - you watch me jerk off??”

“Dean – humans are amazing creatures.  You are no exception.  And to me, you are the most extraordinary one of all.” Cas’ blue eyes flamed.  He knew he was revealing too much but he simply was too tired to try and hide it anymore.

Dean thought should be embarrassed but for some reason, he wasn’t.  It was probably the alcohol and hopelessness that made him not care.  Dean held Cas’ eyes in his as he stripped off the rest of his clothes and stepped naked under the stream of hot water, letting it wash off the days of grime and slick his body down like a fish as he scrubbed his body with the hotel soap. When he stepped out, his flesh was pink and tender.  He grabbed a towel, scrubbed it over his face and hair and wrapped it low around his hips.  He tried not to notice the way Cas stared at him because it made him uneasy - and something more.  Something he had pushed away time and again with the memories of his father’s words echoing in his head.  He shook the thoughts away; _none of it mattered anymore anyway_ , then took out a toothbrush and brushed his teeth. 

Cas watched this man – so torn apart by the deal life and fate had handed him - and couldn’t believe how beautiful he was.  With his scruff of unshaven beard and weary eyes and smooth muscular body, full of scars and healing bruises, he was as beautiful as any Winter sunset or Autumn leaf.  As these thoughts came, so too could he hear Dean admonish him for the _chick-flick moment_.

“OK.  I’m clean.  Thanks for making sure I didn’t fall down and crack my head.  Can I get some sleep now? Go and check on Sammy.”

He brushed past Cas to get out of the bathroom but Cas grabbed him by his arm again.  It didn’t escape either of their notice that his hand rested in precisely the spot that he hand branded Dean on his escape from Hell.  “You can rest. But I’m going to watch over you.” Dean looked into Cas’ cobalt blue eyes and what he had said to him earlier came back to him. Without even willing it to, his hand came up to cradle Cas’ face, he ran his thumb across his jaw and Cas inclined his head into the feel of it.  This touch was more than he’d even hoped to receive.

“Cas. I – “ His father’s words rushed back and he blushed hot, dropping his hand to his side in a fist. “Yeah – I need to sleep.”

Dean noticed that Cas had somehow cleaned the room and made the bed while he was in the shower.  He figured it was no big deal to an angel to tidy up a room but it vaguely tickled him that he had an Angel maid service as he pulled back the crisp sheets and blanket.  They smelled of sun and fresh air and he wondered vaguely if Cas had actually Angel-laundered the bedding. He dropped the damp towel on the floor and slid naked between the covers, pulling them up to his chin “Just go Cas.  I’ll be fine.” He muttered before falling into a deep sleep.

 

~~~~~~~

Alistair nestled his body behind Dean’s, guiding the apprentice’s hand in the horrifying ministrations he was forcing him to inflict on the body before him.  “That’s right.” He purred evilly into Dean’s ear like a lover. “Take your time.  Slowly.  Slowly.  Make it last.” The man strapped to the table before him screamed in abject horror and unbearable pain as the flesh was methodically sliced from his body.  The sound of the screaming and the thick, hot scent of blood made Dean’s knees buckle but Alistair held him in place against his chest, clutching his wrist, forcing him to cut.  Dean’s breath quickened in protest.  “I – I can’t.  Please – don’t make me do this anymore.”  He begged hopelessly. 

“Dean, Dean, Dean – you know you enjoy this – why do you fight it?”  Alistair nestled his face into Dean’s neck and sucked brutally at the skin there until Dean cried out in pain and revulsion. Alistair chuckled evilly. “You always make me hurt you.  Why do you make me hurt you?” He ran his hand over Dean’s bare body as he struggled to break free.  “I could make you feel so good if you let me.”  He viciously yanked Dean’s head back by his hair and forced his hand up to his own throat, the scalpel still clutched in it. “Or I could make you carve your own throat – and carve and carve and carve.”  The scalpel pressed into the skin and drew a bead of blood.

Dean gasped for air.  “Please – please - don’t – please – stop.” Dean writhed in vain to try and get free from Alistair’s iron grip.  His breath became panicked as Alistair forced Dean to slowly slit his own throat.  “Cas!  Help me!  No.  No.  Pl- “ Dean’s voice became a bloody, choking gurgle as his hand carved his own flesh.

Dean gasped as his eyes flew open wide.  He choked for breath, still feeling the sting of the cold blade at his throat and he clawed at the phantom sensation.

“Dean!”  Cas had a tight hold on Dean’s shoulders, which caused him to flail in panic.

“No! No! Please! Let me go! Please!”  He was soaked in sweat, heart bursting from his chest and a wide-eyed horror in his hazy eyes.

“Dean - Dean – you’re safe.” Cas pulled Dean against him tightly but gently and tenderly whispered in his ear.  “It’s me Dean – It’s Castiel – Dean - It’s OK - You’re safe.”  The angel crooned softly.

Dean’s eyes began to focus as the vision of Hell faded.  He tried to slow his breath by pulling air into his lungs.

Dean’s body was shaking uncontrollably as he pulled away from the Angel and crawled out of bed, stumbling towards the bathroom.  Barely making it, he vomited into the toilet, emptying what little he had left in his stomach.  He laid his head in the crook of his arm on the side of the tub and sobbingly hyperventilated.

“Dean.”

“Cas – I just – I can’t.  I can’t go back there.  I can’t.  Promise me you’ll smite me to oblivion before you let me go back there.  I’d rather disappear forever than go back there.”  He looked up at Cas – a pitiable look on his face.

The wretched sight of the man before him made Cas’ heart ache and he kneeled beside him.  This was no way for the Righteous Man to end up - sobbing and naked on a filthy motel bathroom floor.  This wasn’t what Dean had given his whole life and happiness for – to be forsaken by Heaven.

“I know I’m pathetic Cas and you probably can’t stand to look at me.  Just – promise me.”

“I won’t let you go back to Hell Dean.”  Cas clenched his jaw as he promised. “I swear.”

Cas touched Dean on the forehead and he dropped into a dreamless sleep.

 

~~~~~~

“Crowley!”  Cas stood in the parking lot of the Motel as Dean tried to get some more sleep.  “Crowley – get up here!”

“Hello Castiel – how’s the hubby?” The candidate for King of Hell quipped.  “Did you dry him up so he can finish our job?”

“I am not happy that your plan involves Dean taking on the Mark of Cain.”

“We did what we had to do to get the job done.”  He raised his eyebrow. “You understand that – don’t you Cas?”

Cas narrowed his eyes at his former partner wishing he could snap his fingers and turn him into a pink mist.  “Anyway, I didn’t call you up here about that.”

“Then to what do I owe the pleasure?  Fancy a threesome?”

Cas ignored the vulgar humor. “I need to ask you a favor.”

Now Crowley frowned in interest. “A favor, eh?  Now I _am_ intrigued.  Do tell.”

“Answer me this - if Dean Winchester – “ He could barely say it. “ – dies - is his soul fated to go back to Hell?”

Cas could tell Crowley was surprised by this question, though he tried to mask it.  “Cas – to be honest, I don’t know.  I’ve been out of the loop for a while.”  He seemed actually regretful. “Why is it you want to know?”

“When you are back in charge - if he dies - if Dean’s soul is headed to Hell, I want you to send him to Heaven – and take me instead.”

“Take you instead?” Crowley looked surprised and confused.  “I – don’t understand.  You want to take his place?”

“Yes.”

“In _Hell_.”

“Yes.  Take me instead.  Do whatever you want to me – for a thousand years you can have me.  Then you have to send me to be with Dean.”

“Well Cas.  I guess there’s something to be said for true love.  Does the Elder Winchester know?”

“That’s not your concern.  Do we have a deal?”

“Hmmm – an angel in Hell eh? A playmate all for my very own?  Roomies?  Yes Cas – I suppose we do.  Should we kiss on it?”

“When and if the time comes, we’ll seal the deal.”

“Damn – I was hoping to get a little feather tickle.  Ok then – when and if the time comes, you and I will become the Laverne and Shirley of Hell.  You’re Shirley by the way.”

Cas disappeared with a sound of flapping wings.

“You’re welcome!!!” Crowley shouted at the air. “He’s lucky I’m a romantic.”  He chuckled and disappeared himself.

~~~~~~~~

Dean felt warm, and safe – and much better than he should for having consumed the better part of a liquor cabinet the day and night prior.  The remnants of a pleasant dream still tickled the back of his mind and he realized by his erection that it had been one of _those_ kinds of dreams.  His eyes slid open despite his willingness to slip back into the pleasant dream world. 

When he rolled over and stretched, he saw that Cas was laid out beside him watching him sleep as he had done so often before.  He noticed that Cas had slipped off his shoes and shed his coat and was down to his pants and tee-shirt.  He guessed Cas had finally gotten the message _“Cas- you can’t lie on my bed watching me sleep wearing a trench coat.  It’s down right molester creepy.”_ He supposed this was Cas’ concession to propriety.  Or he had gotten used to being comfortable in his months as a human.  Either way, he looked too good.  Especially while Dean’s dream was still drifting in the background and his cock was throbbing.  He had a suspicion his dream had included someone with deep blue eyes.  He hoped he hadn’t talked in his sleep or that Cas hadn’t dream-walked.

“You slept well.  I am glad.”

“Uh – yeah.  I feel good – did you do something, you know – to clean me up I mean?”

“I detoxified your system while you slept.  Your liver will thank me.”

Dean noticed Cas’ had started picking up human idioms and using them properly, and gave him a sad half smile. “You didn’t have to do that.  I deserve to be hung-over for a week.  I know I was a bastard last night.  I’m sorry you had to come over here to take care of me.”

“I’m not. I like taking care of you Dean.” Cas looked into Dean’s sleepy green eyes and his heart ached for him.  His soul ached for this broken man who thought he was nothing and worth nothing and was so ready to give up.  This one human was everything to him now.  His grace ached for Dean’s soul – and if he was honest with himself – this human body ached for Dean’s.  It was a too human feeling of what he recognized as sexual attraction.  The fact that this body was male as was Dean’s didn’t matter to him.  The beauty of Dean’s flesh was only outdone by his traumatized yet glorious soul.

“Cas – I uh.  Can you just, you know, forget all that stuff I said last night?  I was pretty drunk and feeling sorry for myself.”

“I don’t understand – I can remember the last several million years – except for when my Angel brethren wiped my memory – but other than that, my memory is very good. “

Dean sighed, trying to keep in mind that figures of speech were often lost on the Angel.  “What I meant was – just ignore it.  Pay no attention to it.”

“Oh. I still don’t understand.”

“Never mind Cas.”  Dean gave up and started to climb out of bed when he realized he was still naked. “Uh – oh yeah – my clothes.”  He nabbed the towel from the floor and wrapped it around his waist before going to his duffel to grab some fresh clothes – Dean he disappeared into the bathroom and came out in a pair of well worn slightly ripped jeans, a toothbrush in his mouth. “I got a lot of stuff to do today - ”  He mumbled around the toothbrush as he scrubbed.  “– and no offense but I gotta do it alone.  Again - I appreciate you coming over and taking care of me last night – I was a mess.”  Dean chuckled, trying to make a joke of it, going back into the bathroom to rinse.

“Dean –“ Cas had a way of moving so silently that Dean hadn’t realized he was now standing right beside him at the sink. “Do you still plan on dying?’

Cas had a way of cutting right to the heart of the matter without the human propensity for tiptoeing around sensitive subjects.  Dean clenched his jaw. “Cas – look what I said last night – just leave it alone.  It is what it is- whatever happens, it’s not on you, OK?”  He exited the bathroom to start jamming stuff in his duffel.

Cas felt anger bubble up in him; he was tired of hearing Dean’s defeated tone.  “Dammit Dean!”

“What?”  Dean was taken aback – Cas had, up to that point, been walking on eggshells.

Cas closed in on Dean who backed up until his back hit the wall behind him.  “Cas!  Dude. What the Hell man?”

Cas pushed Dean roughly against the wall with one splayed hand against his chest.  “Let me ask you something Dean.  Do I look stupid?”  His blue eyes blazed with a fury that made Dean swallow.  If Cas wanted to, he could pummel him into unconsciousness – and had done so on several occassions.

Dean swallowed the lump of dull fear in his throat.  _What was Cas talking about?_  “Stupid?  Uh – no Cas. I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Do you think that after Millennia of obeying the orders of Heaven, of doing what I was told, being a good Soldier, not thinking for myself - that I would rebel and throw it all away on a whim?  Do you think I would be so cavalier about being cut off from Heaven? That I would casually give up everything I have ever known?”

“Cas I don’t – What are you asking me this for?”

“Answer my question.” Cas growled at him.

“No.  No Cas” Dean replied carefully since Cas had a tendency to be volatile. “I don’t think any of that was easy for you.  I know it wasn’t.”

“I told you before that I did it all for _you_.  I rebelled - for _you_.  So why – after all you know about me – would you think I would give it up for someone who is nothing?  For someone who is no better than trash?”

Dean was frozen in place and kept his eyes on Cas’ chest.

“Answer me!!”  Cas’ breath was rapid and Dean could feel the heat of it on his face.

“Cas – please.”  He shook his head.

“Look at me.”  The Angel ordered.  “Dean.  Look at me.”  Dean’s head came up to look Cas in the eye with a defiance he didn’t feel.  Cas’ voice grew sad and “You’ve never thought you were worth saving.”

“Cas – don’t.” A single tear threatened to fall and Dean fought baring his feelings right now.  It felt as if it would tear him apart.

“I need you to know you’re not worthless Dean.  Don’t you realize you mean everything to me?”

Almost as if he was in the middle of a dream state, Dean leaned in closer to Cas, his lips almost touching.  Something stopped him.  He was so unsure.  So scared of jumping off that precipice.  Thoughts raced through his head.  He wanted Cas.  He wasn’t sure when these feelings started but they were strong. He had been trying to deny it but the looks they shared, they weren’t the looks of good friends.  They were looks that lovers shared. 

The memories of his father shaming him for having feelings like this kept flooding his head and he tried to push them away. _I tried! I did!_ Dean knew he could never be what his father really wanted from his first-born son.  How could he be a true hunter - a true Winchester - if he felt things like this? And Cas wasn’t even just a man!  He was an Angel of the Lord.  Surely if the things he had already done wouldn’t damn him to Hell, doing all the things he wanted to do with Cas would surely cast him into the fiery pit for eternity.

Despite all this, he wanted Cas just the same.

Cas could feel Dean’s warm breath on his skin.  He felt an odd sensation and vaguely recalled the dimpling on his skin was called Goosebumps and the trembling in his belly as Butterflies; such strange names for pleasant feelings of excitement and trepidation.  Should he be feeling this way about a mortal man?  Surely Dean was more than worthy of being cherished.  _Am I ready to fall for him?_ He asked himself, but knew the answer before the question.  Cas had already fallen for him.  He was deeply, helplessly, life-destroyingly in love with this man - all infuriating, angry, tormented, heartbroken, kicked-puppyness of him.

Cas ran his hand roughly through Dean’s hair pulling him forward until their foreheads were pressed together.  “Don’t leave me Dean.  Don’t ever leave me.  Swear.”  He rasped until Dean nodded.

Cas crushed his mouth to Dean’s and was rewarded with a needy moan as his tongue plundered Dean’s mouth.  He was pleased he’d studied how to kiss – in case it might come in handy someday.  Dean sucked Cas’ bottom lip until it became swollen. The overwhelming sadness that had clung to him for weeks abated.

Dean grabbed Cas by the waist and pulled his body against him grinding their hips together.  Their clothes were frustratingly in the way but it was a welcome buffer, for Dean was still unsure if what he was doing was right. 

“Cas – “ Dean choked out as he ran his hands through the Angel’s messy, dark hair. “I don’t think we should – “ but despite his protests he lapped hungrily at Cas’ mouth as if the taste of him was fascinating.  The primal need of his body was overriding what his brain was telling him should stop. Dean’s mouth roamed from Cas’ mouth to his throat where he sucked and ran his tongue over the skin, eliciting a low moan from Cas.  Dean paused “Cas – should we stop? This isn’t right is it?”

“Shh – Dean – it’s OK.  I want this – don’t you want this?”  His eyes were heavy with lust as he stared into Dean’s eyes.  “It’s not wrong to want this.” He kissed Dean’s mouth tenderly.  “Don’t stop.”  He begged between kisses.  “Please.”

Dean stroked his mouth against Cas’ “Give me your tongue.” He commanded. Cas licked Dean’s mouth and Dean captured his tongue, sucking it until Cas released a raw, low growl from the electric, erotic impulses it was sending to his groin.

Cas ran his hands over Dean’s back, his nails scratching into his bare skin and tried to pull him in closer. “Take my clothes off Dean.”

The words he never thought he would hear sent shivers down Dean’s body.  He pulled Cas’ shirt out of his waistband and slid his hands under, pulling it over his head.  The Angel’s chest was a new wonderland to explore and Dean did, his wet mouth found Cas’ nipple and drew it in sucking it to a peak as Cas threw his head back in surrender gasping from the feeling.  Cas grabbed Dean’s hands roughly and guided them to the button on his pants.  “I said, take my clothes off Dean.” He demanded.  

Dean chuckled a dirty laugh. “Bossy Angel.  Ok, Ok.  You like being in charge?  I’ll do whatever you say Cas.  Anything you tell me to do.”  As he unbuckled Cas’ belt and undid the fly on his pants, he pushed them off his hips, exposing his cock to the cool air. 

Dean ran his hand lightly over the silky, tight flesh and Cas shuddered.  “Yesssss.  Oh Dean.”  He sighed.  Dean’s hand circled him and he stroked him as Cas whimpered into the crook of Dean’s neck.  It was too much and not enough. “Dean.  Please – I need you.” Instinctively he rocked his hips into the rhythm of Dean’s hand. 

Dean ran his thumb through the warm liquid beading on the tip.  “Baby – what do you want me to do to you?”

“I – why do you call me that? I’m not an infant.”  He asked quizzically.

Dean laughed, his heart bursting with amusement.  He sucked a bruise into Cas’ shoulder blade as he stroked Cas’ velvet skin, feeling his own erection straining unbearably against the fabric of his jeans.  He was going to enjoy taking this impossible creature apart at the seams.  “No baby – that means I care about you.  You call someone baby when you are together – like lovers.”

“Oh – ok.  I like that - baby.” He sighed.

“That’s it. Now tell me what you want.”

Cas gently pressed at Dean’s shoulder, indicating he wanted the man on his knees in front of him.

“No Cas – you have to tell me.”  He kissed the ruined, swollen lips in front of him. “Say what you want baby.”

Cas sobbed out in pleasure from the exquisite shame.  “I want you to taste me Dean.  I want your mouth on me.”

Dean’s knees nearly buckled hearing the erotic words in Cas’ gravelling voice.  “Oh, Jesus Christ that’s fucking hot.”  He knelt on the floor - the straining flesh of Cas’ sex rising tight against his stomach.  Dean stroked his hot, wet, open mouth against the length of it making Cas buck forward with a hiss from his mouth, bracing one hand against the wall behind Dean for support while the other twined through his messy hair. 

Dean ran his hands up Cas’ thighs to the sensitive skin of his hipbones pulling him in.  He nipped and licked at the flesh at the cleft between Cas’ inner thighs and groin until Cas fisted Dean’s hair.  “Don’t fucking tease me baby.”  Cas’ voice was impossibly raw with pure lust  “I want your mouth on me.”

Dean’s cock twitched hard in response.  _Jesus! Where the fuck did an Angel learn to talk like that? He chuckled to himself in smutty delight - Cas was nothing if not a quick study. “_ You have a fucking filthy mouth Cas.  I love it.” Dean obliged him and Cas almost fainted as he felt Dean’s wet mouth take him inside, circling his flesh with his lips, his tongue sliding over and around the length and tip, sucking and stroking Cas into a sex-hazed, panting stupor.  “Dean. Dean. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” He chanted in words then fragments and incoherent sounds.  “I feel – Dean something’s - happening.”  He stammered.

Dean pulled away for a fraction of a second. “You’re gonna come Baby.” He rasped and then sucked Cas back into his mouth until his nose was buried into the dark, damp hair at the base.  He was rewarded with an uncontrolled shudder through Cas’ body, a spasm of muscle and come bursting on Dean’s tongue, he swallowed as it exploded down his throat and let Cas thrust mindlessly into his mouth, Dean’s hands guiding his hips in their rhythm.

Cas shouted Dean’s name and words from ancient, dead languages as he spilled into his lover’s sweet mouth - a white-hot, tunnel of light blurring his sight.  He knew he was owned as surely as a slave and he was perfectly content to be so.  Cas collapsed forward, stroking Dean’s hair and murmuring words of adoration as his body recovered.

Dean released Cas from his mouth and swiped his hand over his chin, wiping away some of the mess.

Cas grabbed Dean by the back of the neck, pulling him to his feet and against him so he could kiss his mouth.  He could taste himself on Dean’s tongue and licked greedily at the salty moisture still on his lips.  “I’ve never felt anything like that before.” He whispered between his kisses.

“I thought you had sex before.” Dean asked, mentally shaking off the jealousy.

“Not like - _that_.”

“You mean – I was - your first?”

“Yes.  Like that – with your mouth – I saw it in a movie - what do you call that?”

Dean laughed.  “It’s called a blow-job, baby.  Did you like it?” he ran his fingers through Cas’ damp, messy hair

“Yes.  Yes, I liked it very much.  I’d like to do it again.”

“Now?”

“Well – would you like me to do that to you?”

“Oh Cas – uh, yeah – I think I’d like that.  But we can do other things too.”

“Like what?” Cas asked curiously.

“I’ll show you.”

Dean walked Cas backward until his knees hit the bed and he fell backwards.  Looking into the lust-filled eyes staring hungrily up at him, he unzipped his jeans, releasing his heavy cock with relief. He pulled the fabric over his hips and let them fall to the ground as he stroked himself lazily.  “Oh baby – you keep looking at me like that and this is gonna be a long day.”

Dean stalked over to his duffel and began rummaging around in it.  “What are you doing Dean?”

“Shhh baby – I just need to get something – don’t worry.”

Finding what he was looking for, he returned to the bed and tossed a tube next to Cas.  “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.”  He looked at the tube Dean had acquired “What’s that?”

“It’s just something to make everything feel better.  OK?”  Dean climbed onto the bed and straddled Cas’ hips.  “You’re so beautiful Cas.  I can’t even think straight.”  He smirked at his own joke.

“Kiss me Dean.  I want you to kiss me.” He begged as he stroked Dean’s thighs that hugged his waist.

Dean laid down on top of Cas’ body and began plundering his mouth again.  The salt of sweat, the taste of sex still on his tongue and lips and Cas’ breath all mingled in a heady mix that made Dean harder than he’d ever been.  Cas’ erection had returned and Dean rubbed himself on the length of it, the sticky hot skin creating an overwhelming friction.  He circled his hand around the both of them stroking them both at the same time.  Cas began to moan again and move his hips, instinctively grinding up against him. 

Dean knew he wouldn’t last long at this rate so he pulled away. 

“Dean – don’t stop.”

“It’s ok.  It’s all gonna feel good.  I swear.”  He grabbed the lube next to him on the bed and let it slick up his fingers.  “You still trust me?”

Cas nodded and Dean lay down next to Cas, his body nestled against his side and nudged Cas’ legs apart.  He slid his fingers between Cas legs and rubbed against his opening sliding one slippery fingertip into him.  Cas hissed a curse.  “You OK?  I’ll stop if you want me to stop.”  Cas’ eyes opened and stared at Dean.

“Don’t stop Dean.”

Dean began to thrust the encroaching finger further into him as he kissed away any pain.  When Cas began to relax into it, he added a second finger, stretching his entrance and preparing him.  Dean stroked and curled his finger just right and brushed up against the spot he knew would take Cas apart.  “Ohhhh! Dean!”  Cas bucked and moaned as Dean suckled the delicious noises from his mouth.

“That’s right baby.  You like that don’t you?  I want to make you feel good.”

Dean slid a third finger to join the first two, stretching and stroking.

“Dean – baby – It feels so good.  So good.”  Cas was moving his hips into Dean’s thrusting hand.

“You want more?”

Cas nodded – not knowing what he wanted but knew he needed something. 

Dean withdrew his fingers and Cas whimpered in protest.  “It’s ok – I’m not going anywhere.”  Dean squeezed out more lube onto his hand, slicking up his cock and Cas’ opening.  “You ready?” He asked as he pulled Cas’ legs around his hips

Cas nodded again feeling the blunt tip of Dean against him.  Dean thrust forward slightly, burying the tip of himself into Cas who moaned at the painful pleasure he hadn’t known he had wanted.  When Cas relaxed the ring of muscle, Dean rocked forward again deepening his intrusion.  He closed his eyes and sighed at the restraint he was forcing upon himself.  His legs were shaking with the desire to ram forward and thrust uncontrollably into this beautiful defiled Angel under him.  “You OK?”

“Yes Dean.  I – I think I want more of you.  Inside me.”

“Jesus baby – you’re gonna make me come just from saying stuff like that.” He ran his hands over Cas’ chest and pinched his nipples that looked good enough to bite.  Cas was hard and tight against his belly.  Dean took him in his hand again and stroked him as he leaned forward and pushed himself into Cas until he was buried to the hilt.  Cas whined under him and grabbed at Dean’s arms, scrabbling for purchase at the sensation of being filled completely.  He threw his head back against the bed and arched into Dean as he began to thrust slowly into him.

“Dean – it’s so good.  So good.”  He groaned in hungry abandon.

Dean pulled back knowing the exact angle Cas wanted, dragging the length of himself against Cas’ prostate again and again.  “Oh God!  Yes. Please Dean.  More.  I want more.  Please!  Harder!”  He begged shamelessly. _Fuck!_ Dean thought. _Did he know what he was saying?? Where the fuck did he learn to torment a guy with porno talk like that?_

Dean obliged by thrusting harder and deeper into his body, hitting the sensitive spot with each thrust.

“Dean!  I’m – I’m going to come again.” Cas burst into Dean’s stroking hand; ropes of pearly liquid spurted onto their bellies.  Dean felt a wave of pure unadulterated desire burning his body as his balls began to tighten; the sharp spikes of pleasure ripping through his body and the muscles in his groin.  He released himself into Cas with a long, gasping moan and collapsed onto him panting. “Baby.  Oh man.  What the fuck?”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean’s eyes opened and Cas’ deep blue eyes bore into him as they often did, making Dean certain he was reading his thoughts. “What were you dreaming about Dean?”  Cas had asked him that once before and it had been vaguely threatening at the time.  Because the both of them knew the dream had been about Hell.  This time however, his voice was heavy and the low, almost growling timbre of it caused a surge of pleasure in Dean’s groin.

Dean just smiled wickedly and didn’t answer.

“I never dreamt before I met you.  Did you know that Dean?”

“No.”

“I didn’t.  So why is it that the day I pulled you out of Hell, I dreamt? Angels don’t dream.  They don’t sleep really – so I guess it would be considered a  - daydream?”

“What did you dream about?” Dean caressed the skin on Cas’ throat thinking vaguely that he should stop, should send Cas on his way and get on with the business of killing, then dying, but he couldn’t.  Maybe it was the fleeting hope that Cas really could somehow save him from himself.  Cas was the only thing in his life that was still good.  Which is why he should make him go away.  But he couldn’t. 

“I asked you first Dean.”

Still, Dean didn’t answer, just pulled Cas closer.  “You know Cas – I didn’t know it until today but – you’re kinda slutty.”  He grinned teasingly at Cas.

A hint of a smile flitted across the Angel’s face “Did you just insult my honor?”

“Absolutely not.  Truth be told, I prefer you slutty.  Don’t ever change.”  He pulled the naked Angel closer to his side.

Maybe this was the only salvation he would ever know.

 

~~~~~~~~~

End part I


End file.
